Chapter Twenty-One #2
Ian’s missives had declared how much he was looking forward to glorying in all the details of my return. No doubt he’d sent the helicopters full of camera crews to record and relish every humbling second of me embarking.
“Don’t let them get to you,” she hissed as though I needed the reminder.
I knew how Ian reveled in the small things every inch as much as the grandiosity.
He probably thought watching my ascent would keep him laughing for months, the thought knotting inside of me until my stomach cramped. “It is all part of his show.”
“This is as close as we can get,” the crewman shouted, struggling to be heard over the circling choppers. Perched on the edge of the boat, he was somehow able to ride the waves as he reached for the edge of the ladder and tied a line to connect the two vessels. “Who’s first?”
Kaspar rose to her feet, instantly unsteady as she peered up at the daunting task ahead. Face blanching, she panted as though the sheer enormity of the climb had only just hit her.
“Do you want me to go alone?” I proffered, hoping the offer came across as more gallant than impatient. Whatever her decision, I just needed to get moving.
“No, no,” she insisted crossly. “It just seems so high.”
“It is high.” I risked a quick glance to confirm the point. “Trust Ian to have brought this damn juggernaut instead of a regular navy ship.”
“Quickly, please,” the crew member prompted, his voice even louder. “I cannot say how long we can maintain this position.”
How reassuring.
“Then let me go first.” I stepped past the flustered Kaspar to climb into position. “If you feel up to the climb, you can follow.”
“This is not what was agreed,” Kasper complained as the crewman attempted to limit the expanse of water between the two vessels.
“We didn’t agree to anything,” I muttered, glancing back to answer her. “It’s up to you.”
She nodded sullenly, seemingly accepting that, as I was already in position to go first, then I might as well do so, though whether she would find the courage to join me, I didn’t know.
“Be careful. The ladder may be wet and slippery from the ocean.” The young crewman grimaced as he gripped onto the metal post and urged our vessel as close as the unruly swell would allow. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I called back, inching toward the edge of the boat.
I’d gone cliff climbing a few times as a younger man and hoped I still had the upper body strength to manage the ascent with relative ease. Eyeing my target, and without waiting for his say-so, I leapt toward the nearest rung, time lengthening as both feet launched.
Crashing against the side of the ship, my heart was in my mouth, but when my feet found the metal rung below them, and my hands seized the posts on either side of the rungs, I knew I’d made it across to the ladder.
So far, so good.
Swallowing down the initial rush of adrenaline, I tried not to linger on how many more steps there were to go, the unpredictable waves below me, or the fact that any subsequent mistakes I made would likely be broadcast live to Ian’s fucking phone.
“Très bien!”
The crew’s shout echoed behind me, but between the roaring helicopters and the sound of the waves biting at my feet, his praise was almost lost entirely.
I remained focused on the challenge ahead; the task of making it to the top of the ship.
The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was to turn around and risk losing my balance.
Aside from the drop into the unwelcoming water below, I also had Ian’s glee factor to consider.
I’d do everything in my power not to give him even more of a show to enjoy.
What I’d have to suffer was already sufficient.
Pulling in a steadying breath, I reached up and started the climb.
Just as the French crew member had suggested, much of the metal had been smothered in sea water, and I checked my grip before I hauled myself upward.
I’d managed five more steps before another rowdy wave smashed below me, drenching the space I’d once been clinging to.
A momentary pause was all I permitted myself before I continued, and in that act of physicality, there were no further thoughts of the crewman or Kaspar.
The cards would fall where they chose, but ultimately, my objective was, as Laurent had put it, to stay focused on what I had to achieve—the tiny matter of persuading the megalomaniac on board that I was truly contrite for leaving his dominion, and willing to do just about anything to make it up to him.
Keeping my attention on the side of the boat ahead of me, I concentrated on the only part of the puzzle I had any control over, moving until I was finally on deck.
Step by step, I ascended, my gaze searing into the side of the Traditional Values.
Not so long before Fortorus had opened, I’d had the pleasure of sitting through an hour-long presentation about Ian’s plans for the ship, the sound of his eager excitement about how it would be the biggest and the best in British naval history somehow still ringing in my ears as loudly as the helicopter overhead.
How would I have responded on that day, I wondered, if I’d been told during that tedious performance that one day I’d have been forced to inch my way along its mighty sides for the president’s entertainment?
I assumed there was a more venerable way I could have returned, on board one of those helicopters he loved to play with, for example, yet Ian had chosen the ungainly climb I was currently enduring.
There was little doubt that the display was supposed to be part of my punishment, and gulping back what remained of my pride, I was vaguely aware that Kaspar had joined me in the climb, though adamantly, I refused to look down and confirm the suspicion.
By the time my destination was in sight, one thing was for certain. I wasn’t as fit as I’d thought I was, the ache in my chest, arms, and shoulders reiterating my flagging determination.
“Two approaching, Mr. President, Sir!”
A holler from a man on the deck above me, though, persuaded me to keep going. I hadn’t got all that way just to give up at the final hurdle and give Ian and his numerous cameras a bird’s eye view of me falling back to the depths below.
“Ah, there he is.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and lowered my head at the sound of Ian’s irritating tone, bracing myself for however many more banal comments I’d have to put up with before Laurent’s military plans came to my rescue.
For one protracted moment, I was unable to look up and face my fate, knowing once I’d met the piggy eyes of the man who’d wield power over me, there would be no going back.
In the end, it was his goading mockery that insisted I reach the top, and hauling my weary body over the edge of the vessel, his words rang in my ears.
“Come on, Adam. I knew you could do it!”
Landing in an undignified heap on the deck, I pulled myself slowly to my feet.
Undoing my life jacket, I attempted to find my bearings.
There, on either side of the space I’d fallen onto, was what looked like a full military parade, with troops in regalia lined up behind their president, alongside the usual suspects I used to have to deal with during my London jaunts.
Ian.
I met his knowing stare, noting that he, too, was in full ceremonial dress. The taunting smirk on his face was precisely the sort I’d envisioned that he’d wear—cruel and unforgiving—exactly the kind of sadist I knew he was, but straightening my tie, I refused to let my concern show.
For the first time in my over-privileged life, I had to come to heel, but even before I fell to my knees, I clung on to the reasons why.
I would do whatever it took to buy back my freedom and the chance of a life with Caroline, to see Ian answer for the unmerciful way he’d run Britain into the ground, and, if I was truly blessed, to take my first real steps toward redemption.